


Your Legs Look So Shiny

by Tigresse



Series: JohnLock Sherlock BBCverse - Romance and Sex [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Humor, Light Angst, M/M, Romance, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-23
Updated: 2017-12-23
Packaged: 2019-02-19 02:32:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13114122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tigresse/pseuds/Tigresse
Summary: Horny John and a hopeful Sherlock (who has taken a certain step to impress his doctor lover)!





	Your Legs Look So Shiny

John was trying to be patient.

 

Sherlock was having one of those months when he had back to back cases to solve, a couple of which took him to Russia and Ukraine. In Russia he was engaged by the Russian government and the KGB, to solve a string of murder cases of former mistresses of a senior political leader while in Ukraine he was engaged by the police and the intelligence team to handle a strange case of forged papers replacing original official documents in heavy security offices with no break-ins detected.

 

He had solved them both but that also meant he had spent two weeks out of the country. When he returned, triumphant but exhausted, all he did was crash for twenty-four hours and then resume local cases with Mycroft or the Scotland Yard. John had managed to do some of his own work as a doctor, including attending a very important seminar at Belfast, during the time that Sherlock was traveling. He was glad for that but that didn’t mean he didn’t miss his curly haired beauty. He missed him a lot, more than he thought possible, and that included the sex aspect too.

 

When they were merely friends and colleagues John hadn’t felt this bad when Sherlock ignored him or was too busy with work. He sure missed their downtime chats and some of his flatmate’s quirks and adorable whims, but at least he didn’t feel lonely in bed at night. That, Dr Watson realized quickly, was the worst way to miss someone very close to you. The bed seemed too cold, too lonely, too big.

 

So, when the month was over and finally a day arrived when Sherlock was free, John was happy just to have him around in the flat, lounging on the couch in his trademark silken robe and pajamas.

 

“Jawwn.”

 

“Hmmm, yes what is it?”

 

“Breakfast was nice.”

 

“Come on, I made toast, tea and poached eggs and you didn’t touch the eggs. Nothing so great about it really.”

 

“Toast was nice.”

 

“I see.”

 

John could feel Sherlock’s eyes on him but didn’t initiate further conversation on this, nor did he jump his lover’s bones or admit how miserable he had been for a month, or even complain about the lack of sex for thirty long days. He didn’t want to come across as a whiner. He was better than that.

 

So he kept reading the newspaper and Sherlock kept looking at him but neither man spoke a word till John saw the photograph of a male supermodel and exclaimed, “Look at this fellow. Earns about two million a year, is on the cover of every fashion and lifestyle magazine, pop stars are clamouring to have him in their videos and the boy is only twenty three. Who says only female supermodels can get rich and famous. I think….it’s his legs, just see how long and smooth they are. Muscular and shapely, all smooth…..Sherlock?”

 

He saw the detective’s retreating back as the brunette walked towards the bedroom. John returned to his paper and waited for the day, and Sherlock’s mood, to pass.

 

***

 

John eventually had to go to Barts on an emergency call to help with an accident victim and by the time he returned to the flat, it was almost nine-thirty. Naturally, he was quite surprised to see Sherlock sitting there on his chair, wearing only his robe this time (no pajamas, John noticed), smelling like a garden in whatever eau-de-cologne he had used, his hairs shiny and fluffy and styled carefully, basically looking like a million bucks wrapped around a wet dream. “This is odd,” he said pleasantly, washing his hands and toeing off his shoes, “I thought you’d have gone to bed or engrossed in some experiment or maybe working on your laptop.”

 

“I was waiting for you.”

 

More than the words it was that husky tone that painted erotic images in the good doctor’s peripheral vision. He saw himself fucking Sherlock raw on the couch, bending him over the chair, taking him on the carpet and in so many other poses. John tensed his legs and sucked in a deep breath. His cock, which had been half hard since the past two days (despite jerking off daily in the shower), had started to leak and jerk in his underpants. He took off his socks, holding on to one of the kitchen chairs to balance himself, when he felt more than heard Sherlock let out a soft moan and press himself flush against him, his front to John’s back.

 

John was no saint after all. He had human urges, urges that had been repressed for a whole month, and he couldn’t help but give in.

 

He spun around and grabbed the sash of the robe, giving it a hard tug. It smoothly slid off Sherlock’s pale shoulders, revealing the detective in his stark-naked glory.

 

“Horny little bastard,” John groaned more than spoke out the words, “Nothing beneath?”

 

“Uh….it’s been a while and….uhhhh!”

 

Sherlock began to grind his cock, now pointing at his chin, on John’s side. The feel of the hard man meat rubbing against his shirt clad torso was nearly enough to cause a blackout level orgasm for John but the older man had much to do that night, too much to allow his self-controls to slip and fall apart.

 

He grabbed Sherlock and said, “Jump.”

 

Sherlock climbed on him like a monkey, his long legs wrapping around John awkwardly, as John held him by the buttocks and carried him to the bedroom. On the way Sherlock’s hands moved restlessly, lustfully, rapidly over John, unbuttoning his shirt and pulling up his undershirt, then unbuckling his belt and pulling that off as well. The doctor heard the faint clang of metal against wood as the belt landed on a chair and the next moment they fell on the bed, Sherlock trapped under John, coaxing a springy effect from the mattress.

 

“I want you to bounce on me like this,” John patted the mattress as he peeled off his clothes, “Just like this, bouncy, saucy, springy!”

 

“I….mmmm…I just….uhhh….Jawn….hnnn!” Sherlock’s response was choppy, breathy, punctuated by moans and pants and John felt his dominating side slowly take over. He loved the confident, smart mouthing Sherlock at work but he absolutely adored the bumbling, shy little boy he became in bed. Regular sex eased his shyness though and he opened up more, literally and figuratively, in bed when John and he went at it every night or morning. But give a gap of two weeks of more and the virginal, coy Sherlock came back again and acted like that little boy who wanted everything but had no idea how to ask for it.

 

“Yeah little munchkin,” John kissed up his quivering abs and heaving chest, “I know what you need. Both of us need it. We have to be milked first, it’s been too long.”

 

“Ohhhhhh,” Sherlock scrunched his eyes shut and raised his hips, as if seeking stimulation.

 

John began to suck his lover’s straining member while he jerked himself off with his right hand, fully intent on making them cum at the same time. But he had miscalculated how close Sherlock was.

 

As soon as John had allowed himself to take more than half of Sherlock’s erection into his mouth, he felt his lover begin to move his hips, fucking his mouth desperately. It was a splendidly arousing moment, peppered by the noises Sherlock was making, and John grunted around his mouthful. Almost instantly spurts of semen hit the insides of his mouth as Sherlock came with pathetic whines and needy wails.

 

Seconds later John shot his load over his own fingers.

 

“I shall open you up with my own spunk,” John said possessively, lifting one of Sherlock’s long legs and hooking it over his shoulder, exposing the tiny little secret place. He gathered his slippery semen on his index and middle fingers and started to push them in.

 

Already relaxed from his orgasm and still supine and pliant, Sherlock’s body drew in the two digits right away.

 

***

 

“Yes love, yes, that’s it, oh slow please, don’t want you to hurt, mmmmm, nice and tight around my cock, yeaaah you are right there.”

 

“Fuck,” Sherlock let out a sharp cry as his butt touched John’s groin.

 

John’s hoarse whispers, urging Sherlock to impale himself on his thick cock, had made the brunette sexpot offer quite a show to his older lover. Long legs planted wide apart, cock pointing skywards again, the hole between his butt cheeks nice and wide and open, he slowly sank down on John’s considerable girth like his life depended on it. John watched through agape eyes as his nine inches disappeared inside his lover’s lubed opening, bit by bit, as if he was being swallowed up whole.

 

Sherlock sat quiet and still on John’s cock, trying to gain some control over his body while his mind melted into a puddle. John understood and gave him those moments, knowing how much his man hated to lose his mind, even in bed. He let his hands roam all over his Sherlock’s body, pinching the strawberry coloured nipples to playing with the belly button, caressing the long arms and reaching behind him and grabbing his buttocks, kneading them like pizza dough before fingering the cleft in between. He felt his own cock there, lodged snugly between the two milky mounds of springy flesh.

 

//God he is so beautiful, some day he will be the death of me, I’ll die of his sheer sexiness//

 

John floated on cloud nine in bliss, enjoying having Sherlock this close after a long gap, so nicely joined together, all to himself, intimate and moulded into each other. If this was not Paradise on earth then he knew of no other.

 

Then Sherlock began to move, began to bounce rather, and John changed the verdict. This was paradise on earth, Sherlock fucking himself on his cock.

 

Creating quite a racket, the curly haired Englishman rode John harder and harder, cock bouncing up and down and smacking occasionally against John’s belly. Every single time that happened, Sherlock let out a harsh cry.

 

Realizing he needed a touch, John wrapped his fingers around the bobbing muscle and started to fondle and stroke it just the way Sherlock loved it.

 

“Oh fuck Jawn, getting so close,” Sherlock moaned, grabbing John’s free hand and rubbing it up and down his shins, “Oh yeah feel me, make me feel you too.”

 

“Yesss you horny little thing,” John knew just when his lover needed a bit of dirty talk, “Feel my stick inside you now, like this,” he thrust up and Sherlock cried out, “Like this?” He thrust up harder and Sherlock screamed.

 

By now John was also on the edge, a fact he hadn’t realized until he felt the first tingle of his climax start at the base of his balls and the pit of his stomach. He stroked Sherlock harder and once again the younger man grabbed the free hand and placed it on his thigh, making it move up and down his shanks. This was new but John was always game to trying something new, so he kept rubbing and stroking Sherlock’s bare legs till he felt painful constrictions start to happen around his member.

 

They created quite some cacophony of sounds as they came, Sherlock howling and moaning, John cursing and grunting, till they had no more body fluids to exchange.

 

***

 

“You didn’t even pay attention to it.”

 

John was lying on his back, one of his arms draped loosely around his Sherlock as the consulting-detective turned sex-kitten lay with his head on the doctor’s chest. He had a big smug smile on his lips now that his body was relaxed and at ease after a month-long itch had been finally taken care of. But Sherlock’s sudden and unexpected words broke that silent bliss in the room and he frowned, lowering his head to kiss those curls. “Whatcha mean love? I don’t think you can go for a third round so soon.”

 

Sherlock moved away from John and rolled over to face the other side, body language screaming ‘I am not loved enough’. But when John tried to pull him back in his arms, he pushed him away and lamented, “I even tried to draw your attention to them, I put your hand on my calves first, then my shins, my knees and finally my thighs and you couldn’t be bothered to even say a few words, not even after the sex was over. Actually….you didn’t even look at them…..”

 

John quaked and winced, several dots connecting in his head to complete the picture. He sat up and looked at Sherlock, first at the face and then down the delicious torso to his long lean legs. God, they were smooth, baby smooth, the skin shone from the faint perspiration of their lovemaking.

 

“Sherl….they are really shiny.”

 

Sherlock covered his face with both hands. This was his inevitable overture when John praised any body part of his. A light pink flush spread all over him and John bent down to kiss as much of it as possible.

 

“Hmmm,” John dragged his lips up and down his lover’s thighs, making Sherlock shiver, “How far up did it go baby?”

 

“Ummm….”

 

“Lemme see.”

 

“Jaawwwn stop it.”

 

“Don’t be all shy now. First you were upset when I didn’t notice and now you’re squirming because I want to see more of it. Come on, lie straight, don’t close up, ohhhh, you shaved your pubes too….even your balls are smooth….”

 

Sherlock huffed out a tortured breath and John took that as a signal to stop. Then a thought struck him and he asked, “But love, why did you do this? I mean I liked you just the way you are, were, and this is really nice and sexy but why did you do this thing?”

 

“You were talking about that supermodel.”

 

John smiled, “Ah.” He gathered Sherlock in his arms and cuddled him affectionately, then kissed him again on those smooth hairless legs and up his thighs, stopping at the hip. For a month he had been thinking if he was important enough in Sherlock’s eyes to be considered for some ‘private and intimate’ time between cases and here was his cutely insecure lover, going through a painful process of ripping his hairs from their roots just because John had casually mentioned some male supermodel that morning. Of course Sherlock considered him important!

 

“I love this,” John ran his hands over Sherlock’s calves and gently fingered his balls, “This is very sexy. But you don’t have to do this again. It must have been painful.”

 

“I was in my mind palace, talking to the ‘John’ there, so I didn’t feel much.”

 

“And what did ‘John’ of the mind palace say to you?”

 

“He….umm…”

 

“What?”

 

“He said I looked better than that supermodel. And I had brains too, on top of the looks.”

 

“That goes without saying, real John agrees with mind palace John.” With that, John kissed Sherlock on the lips, a deep and loving kiss which was filled with assurance, love and trust. Then he got out of bed and started rummaging through the drawers of their dresser. Sherlock watched him curiously for a while and then asked, “What are you looking for Jawn?”

 

“Aloe gel. Your skin must still be feeling a bit raw. This will soothe it.”

 

Sherlock quickly lay back down and let John do the needful, blissful smile on his face. “You know what John, even if I am busy or traveling or you’re busy and away for some commitment, we shouldn’t go without sex for so long. Not for more than a week.”

 

John noticed Sherlock’s cock already hard and drooling at the tip, “Yeah,” he said with a wicked grin, “That sounds like a good plan.”

**Author's Note:**

> New series 'JohnLock Romance and Sex'. There will be several standalone one-shots!


End file.
